


Maturity

by horselizard



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Missing Scene, Season/Series 07, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Watersports, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1571036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horselizard/pseuds/horselizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The intention of this fic is to ruin the Series VII opening monologue for everybody. XD</p><p>I blame the RD Tumblr fandom for this (particularly <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/kahvi">Kahvi</a>), but then, I may possibly have been the bit of said fandom whose fault <a href="http://norwegianpornfaerie.tumblr.com/post/84605341157/name-me-a-kink-ill-find-canonical-evidence-of-it-in">that whole thing</a> was in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maturity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hardlightbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hardlightbutts).



Rimmer knew he shouldn't go walking through the lower deck like this. Not after what had happened last time. Lister had been putting away lagers quite prodigiously, and had seen him go. And yet...

He didn't dare to examine what had pulled him back here; he put his head down and put all his concentration into walking. Above him he heard a shuffling, a metallic scuffing, a laughable attempt at clattering discretion. Simulated adrenaline gripped him; he kept walking.

A faint drumming sounded on the metal behind him. Then he stopped in shock as a drizzle of something warm and wet landed in his hair. The stream of liquid arced wildly in front of him, then swung back and sprayed him across one padded shoulder.

He tensed up, a flush of heat pooling in his gut and slowly spreading through his body. A snigger came from above, a trickle worked its way to his hairline and ran down past his ear; his mind was a whirl of confusion.

Desperately, he groped for the response he had to, _had to_ give. “Lister?” he barked furiously, the question mark a mere formality, turning a mask of rage in the direction of that goited ( _thrilling_ ) snigger.

There he was, some thirty feet above, standing feet spread on the gantry – a cigarette in his ear, a broad grin on his face, and his hand at his fly. Not even _trying_ to hide his guilt. “Lister!” he screamed again, scrabbling for words, his brain melting into a scrambled mush at the sight of his denigration reflected in Lister's triumph. “You absolute smegging bastardly smegging bastard! I'm going to throw every smegging space corps directive in the book at you for this!”

He trailed off as he realised with a jolt that Lister wasn't finished. Oh, now _that_ trick was new.

He should have moved, should have at least made a _pretence_ of dodging, as the haphazard spurt of urine lazily made its way down three floors, scattering gently apart as gravity took hold. But he was mesmerised, frozen with astonishment at the flukish accuracy of Lister's drunken aim, and overcome with horrified excitement at the thought of what was about to happen to him.

A rain of thick wet droplets spattered forcefully over his upturned face, splashing into his eyes, dripping between lips parted in surprise. He gasped and shook himself, scattering a mist of fine drips over the front of his uniform, as Lister's hyena cackle cemented his utter humiliation.

That was enough for anyone. He hastily wiped the piss out of his eyes and scurried under the shelter of B Deck's gantry, his simulated heart racing, Lister's mocking laughter still echoing through the empty space between them. He pressed himself flat against the wall, Lister's stinking wetness dribbling all down his face, slowly cooling in his hair, faintly bitter on his tongue.

He'd got exactly what he'd come for, and that realisation was the biggest humiliation of all.


End file.
